I can hear myself swallow
Each movement
Against the corners of the inside of my mind
Irregular movements
Make uneven beats

They pound inside me
Building heat
Filling my eyes
Tears hot
Covering my cheeks

The scars
Where they cut me open
Skin, flesh, skull
They throb
As though alive for themselves

I ache
I writhe
I write
But there is no rhthym to this pain